A Draw
by knirbenrots
Summary: Never before had he been forced to shoot his partner. This time he had no choice. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. Story written for the NCIS-LA magazine: Callen's Corner Challenge #4
1. Chapter 1

**A Draw …**

**Chapter 1**

Disclaimer: as you'll understand, I only share these great characters Shane Brennan and CBS came up with.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

His breath came in gasps as he bent over, his hands on his knees.

A soft chuckle made him look up.

"Burgers. Bacon. Black coffee. Burritos. Told you G, no matter your bragging about your natural low cholesterol, you can never cheat your own body. You should give it a try man."

Callen inhaled deeply and stretched his upper body. "Try what?"

"The slow food thing. Remember? Eating what's around you, watching it grow," Sam explained.

A half smile appeared on Callen's face. "I've seen cows, Sam. I've even watched them walk around near a farm. So don't you judge me for eating a burger. And talking about slow? This slow running of yours is simply not my thing. I don't do those endurance long distance running, y'know? I am not a trained navy SEAL and never will be."

"Tell me something I don't know G. This slow running _with you_ is not my thing either buddy," Sam laughed.

"You see… You are kinda Wilson Kipsang while I am definitely a Usain Bolt."

The fact that the team leader summed up some names that Sam never heard of, made him doubt a little. He squinted as he said "Prove it."

Callen pointed at the pier. "On my three Sam. One-Two-Three!" He started sprinting, knowing Sam needed only a second to adjust. Nevertheless, he reached the Hermosa Beach Pier seconds before his partner and easily beat the big guy. This time it was Sam who needed to control his breathing as they walked toward the end of the pier.

"Alright. Now I get it. You really got used to this extreme sprinting cuz it's the only way you can escape bullets or explosions."

"Or chase the bad guys. When was the last time you needed to chase them for half a marathon Sam?" Callen now chuckled.

The all too familiar dimple that came with a genuine smile appeared on Sam's face. "At least I'll always have your back."

Wordlessly for some minutes, both men enjoyed one of the great southern Californian sunsets.

"So perfectly quiet in here. A much better place for a workout than Venice, don't you think?" Sam said, his stance completely relaxed.

He remembered how Callen had once told him he preferred the hustle and bustle of Venice, simply because it was easy to blend in the crowds. Something that must be a result of Callen's past - his troubled youth and his previous careers with other agencies. All Sam really knew was that his partner had been working too long on his own, a loner on lonely and long missions. There was an urge to stay unseen and at the same time, a talent to be around although nobody really noticed.  
The 'Ghost' - Callen's CIA nickname - had finally given up the need to work alone and accepted the offer to work as the lead agent of the Los Angeles department of the NCIS. And for those same seven years, Sam Hanna had enjoyed working with G. Callen.

The only thing that really bothered Sam was that Callen still had trouble opening up, trusting others enough to share his deepest feelings. Instead Callen preferred to keep things close to the vest.

Working like that was difficult for Sam. As a former Navy SEAL he had been used to trust his team and easily share his thoughts. Still, he considered Callen as more than his friend and Sam could tell that by the way the Hanna family had accepted the younger man, Callen somehow felt that way too.

"Si Hermosa—" Before Callen got the chance to finish his sentence the loud crack of a gunshot sounded.

Alarmed by this both men turned to the beach. Callen ducked and quickly took the gun he had holstered near his ankle.  
Sam raised his brow. He had come without any arms and had expected the same from Callen. Without words, Sam motioned to where the shot had come from. He noticed the curt nod from his partner who then sprinted to the lifeguard headquarters at the pier.

Another shot sounded and this time they heard a woman screaming in fear. Two more shots were fired with only a second between them. Then all was quiet.

Callen glanced at his partner who nodded at the question he needed not ask with words.  
"Federal Agents, drop your weapons!" Callen then shouted as he quickly looked around the corner and dodging back.  
For a second, nothing moved. Then, a shadow appeared from the shadows of the stairs that lead up to the pier.

"Freeze!" Callen warned, his gun at the ready. "Drop the weapon!"

Another split second when nothing was going on, then finally the man slowly kneeled and lay down the gun.

"Stay on your knees. Put your hands behind your head," Sam ordered. As he stepped forward to shove away the gun, Sam recognized the whizzing sound of a knife blade that cut its way deep into the chest of the man that had just killed others.

In a swift move Callen had turned to where the knife had come from and shot in the same direction. It took only two bullets to stop the person. As he checked he knew one of those two bullets had been lethal.

From everywhere it seemed people were now coming closer, phones in their hands, calling and taking pictures. Distant sirens indicated that some of them had warned 911 already.

Sam did not know if the red-haired man in front of him ever knew what had hit him.  
Gasping for air the man grasped Sam's shirt, pulling him closer as he panted "Find Jason—Tedrow."  
On that, he let out a long breath and slid back on the ground.

* * *

_Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

**A Draw …**

_~ Chapter 2 ~_

* * *

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

"What!?"  
Callen looked at the others who had been ordered to return to OPS by Hetty. "If I tell you I haven't seen any of these people before in my life, you have to believe me!"

"Believe you or believe Jason Tedrow?" Deeks tried to joke.  
The look on Callen's face showed that the lead agent did not appreciate it, not this time.

No matter the long day at work that had passed, Eric and Nell had started to work with the pictures of all five deceased. LAPD had immediately taken over the crime scene once they arrived and had only reluctantly agreed to send the pictures over, but only after Sam had asked Hetty to make all kind of arrangements.

On the large screen a series of three identity cards appeared, all with the same person pictured on it.  
"The only person identified so far is the woman, since she carried her driver's license. This is Rona Wilder, aged 27. We're running her through all systems as we speak," Eric told.  
"As for the others, we've got the API and FingerTec running the databases for facial recognition."

Again, Callen shook his head. He'd never seen that woman before. The one thing he understood was that the red-haired man who had shot her and the two men that were with her, that same man, had begged Sam to find 'Jason Tedrow'.

Hetty's words made him look up again. "Mr. Beale? Is there any chance that, once you find out who those people are, you can also find out how they are related to each other?"

The young tech nodded. It was his co-worker Nell Jones who answered.  
"Of course. I'll let Gephi do that thing. That is…" she paused for a second, quickly glancing at Callen, "that is if you allow us to include Jason Tedrow in that program too, Hetty."

Callen saw the appreciating nod of Hetty towards the information analyst.  
"Really?" he asked.  
It was awkward how even his team now addressed him as Jason Tedrow. The only alias he had felt okay with, about eight years ago. Then Tedrow had come back in his life, four years ago.  
He frowned. No way he had imagined Tedrow would come alive again. Callen sighed deeply, then got up and left the operation's center.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

By now Hetty would have sent his team back home, Callen figured. He had spent some time at the shooting range and had ended up sitting in one of the windowsills opposite of the ops. He simply felt he needed some time to reflect back on what had happened earlier that night, without being disturbed.

In the empty building he did hear her coming and in a soft voice he said "Not now, Hetty."

She was quiet for some seconds, not knowing if she should take his words into account. "You are aware that all of this would have happened as well if you and Sam had not been there, dear boy."

He looked up at her, not really knowing what to say. She probably was right. "Fact is that now we know. Maybe that one person would not have ended up getting killed if we had not interrupted him. Then he would have started looking for me—"

She shook her head and said "Wrong, Mr. Callen. Nobody would start looking for you. They were looking for Jason Tedrow."

"Eventually they would," he argued.

"Eventually is after today. Now go home and catch some sleep. You'll probably will have different thoughts once you wake up."  
On that, she turned and left him.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || early next morning**

"Yes, and a good morning to you too, Sam," Kensi said.  
She observed how the senior agent had only eyes for Callen's desk once he had entered the bullpen and he gratefully let out a deep breath as he spotted Callen's go-bag.  
"He's in and you're late," she continued.

"He wasn't around when I wanted to pick him up," Sam explained as he put his laptop on the desk and poured himself a cup of coffee.

"What, Callen did not show up on the date you had?" Deeks chuckled as he overheard Sam's words.

"Guys, skip the good-morning-talks and the coffee break. You're wanted. Up," Eric spoke from the balcony.

Freshly showered and dressed in one of his jeans with a dark blue button down shirt, Callen stood next to Nell, studying something on her screen when the others came in.

"Good to have you all here," Hetty welcomed them. She turned to Eric and encouraged him to take over.

"The systems have been running all night, but at least we've got all five identified." Eric tapped some commands on his tablet on which the pictures appeared on the large screen.  
"We had Rona Wilder, as you know. Spent the last half year working as a life guard at Hermosa Beach and may simply have been at the wrong place at the wrong time."  
He swallowed at the bitter feeling that he could talk like this about innocent victims they were confronted with far too often.  
Concentrating on his task to brief the others he continued "Another victim inside the building was this man. Chris Bryant. Marine until last July, now working as a private investigator."

"Which immediately makes me want to know what he was investigating, huh?" Deeks remarked.

Stoically, Eric went on. "Third person inside might be an answer to that. Andrei Markovic. Former inhabitant of Pirot."

"Let me guess. That's near Pinot, in France? It sounds like some great wine." Deeks said.

"Serbia." Callen commented.

"You know that… how?" Sam wanted to know.

"Was sent over there for my first mission for NCIS. Spent about a month in Pirot, with Gibbs. Remember some military guys in there were great with knives." Callen felt no need to explain any further and let his gaze go back to the screen.  
"The men outside?" he wanted to know.

"Vladimir Basta was the man who threw the knive. The man you killed, Callen," Eric told as he watched the team leader whose face did not show anything.  
"Serbian as well. And the one who died in Sam's arms was Luke Ferris. Military Police."

"Hmm. Right. Now who killed who and why?" Kensi asked the question that might have bothered the others as well.

"Our systems did not need working on that," Eric answered. "It was easier. Look at this." Now the pictures LAPD officers had made inside the building appeared on screen.

All of them concentrated on what they saw.

Deeks stepped a bit closer. "That's a gun in there too?" he pointed at a darker spot on one of the pictures. "Can you enlarge the picture, sharpen it, reduce the blurriness?"  
Eric used the tablet once again. "Like—this."

"Definitely a gun. Now, if you'd ask me I'd say those guys from Serbia killed the others and were after the MP guy as well," Deeks said.

"My thoughts too," Sam reacted. "But why?"

"So far no connections to Jason Tedrow," Nell piped up.

"We should find out," Callen said, looking his partner in the eyes. "Kensi, Deeks, could you check the crime scene? Next briefing in, let's say, an hour and a half from now."

The four of them left, leaving Nell, Eric and Hetty in the operation center. It was Nell who looked at Hetty and asked "Is it really our case?"

The older woman slowly shook her head. "It would not be if you'd look at it 'sec', miss Jones. But I did pull some strings, you see." She softly chuckled. "We would not want Mr. Callen to go lone wolf, would we?"

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Bernist Avenue || Los Angeles**

This time, Sam had reluctantly took the passenger seat as Callen was driving the dark grey Mercedes.

"So, do you think she'll be happy to see you show up once again?" Sam asked. "You know how disappointed you were last time the two of you met. For all you know, she might be divorced, have moved, or whatever."

Callen looked his way. "What makes you think I did not check? Did that long before you arrived, Sam."

"Would have been in earlier if you'd told me that I did not need to pick you up, G." Sam muttered. "When you did not show up at Nick's I went to your place."  
'Never get predictable' was a rule of both men, so they had some different spots where one would pick up the other to drive to the office.

"Why?" Callen asked. "You could have called, you know."

"Thought you might have gone off the grid," Sam confessed.

Callen parked the car as he spoke "C'mon buddy, why would I do that? And when was the last time I did? Now, wanna join or shall I do this alone?" He stepped out of his car, knowing his partner would do the same.

Callen straightened his shoulders as he faced the house he had been staying so many times in a past life. In a way, he was curious if Kristen would have changed.  
He knocked on the door and moments after he heard someone walking to it and opened up.

"You!" was the only thing Tommy Boyd managed to say.

"Kristen around?" Callen simply asked.

"Na. She's taking the kids to the beach. Strange though to see you show up when I thought I'd never see you again. Tried to find you, actually."

Surprised, Callen looked at the other man. "How's that?"

"Some guys came around, last week. Looking for Jason Tedrow. And yesterday some other guys showed up. Same thing. Looking for Jason Tedrow as well."

Sam stepped forward, showing his phone "Any of these look familiar to you?"

Boyd narrowed his eyes, looking at them both. "Told Kristen you never were who you said you were. I was right, wasn't I?"  
After the curt nod Callen sent him, Boyd took a closer look at the pictures Sam showed, then pointed at the MP, Luke Ferris, and Chris Bryant. "They came in here together, first. And I think it's that man -" he scrolled back, looked again and nodded – "Yes, this one."

Markovic.

"What did you tell them?" Callen wanted to know.

"I told them Tedrow died." Tommy Boyd answered.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Back at NCIS Office of Special Projects **

"So it's a dead end then," Deeks joked.

"It's not. If Boyd told everyone Tedrow died, why would Ferris ask Sam, a stranger, to find Tedrow?" Kensi argued.

Noticing his partner was quieter than they were used to, Sam asked "You're okay, G?"

"Uh-huh."

From behind them, the real answer came. "When you were in the field, we've rolled out your scenario's already, Mr. Callen. Miss Jones has taken care for the backstopping and paperwork. I reckon you've discussed this with your partner already?"

* * *

**A/N** Oh, I know, there could've been more action in this chapter. Never mind, I'm saving it for what's to come...

_Your reviews are very welcome!_


	3. Chapter 3

**A Draw …**

_~ Chapter 3 ~_

* * *

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

Callen shook his head. "Needed to know for sure that we were taking the right decision Hetty. But yeah, we can go on. Is Nell around?"

"In here," the younger analyst said, standing near the locker rooms. "Ready for your tat, Callen?"

"What on earth is it that you haven't told me this time, G?" Sam demanded. "Remember the thing we call sharing? Trusting you partner? Things like that?"  
He turned, wanted to leave, when his partner's softer voice came from behind.

"At least I'm not going lone wolf, Sam. Just—Have a seat and I'll explain. Nell, will you fill in the parts if I skip anything?"

Callen unbuttoned his shirt and let it hang off his shoulder, then asked "You've got the right angle right now?"

"Double yep," Nell responded. "Mind you, after a week of showering and sweating it'll fade. So you'd better be done with this case or else come back for a fresh one."  
She bit her lower lip as she started working.

Meanwhile, Callen started explaining.  
"Maybe it was the way that guy threw the knife. And the distinct Slavic looks I recognized too, you know. Made me wonder if I was right. If the Serbian mafia really could be active in LA too."

"And?" Sam asked.

Callen sneered "Oh, they are. Doing what the Russians do, or the Mexicans. Things like human trafficking or drug trafficking, contract killing, protection rackets, things like that, you know. There's three branches in town. Nell traced the two Serbians of last night and it turns out they're part of the Zurcin. She now puts on a fake tattoo, a cross with four Cyrillic C's, standard for the those guys from the region around Pirot."

Far from happy, Sam realized what his partner was saying. "Don't tell me. You're going in? How?"

"Callen will go in as Milan Ceca. Living and working in San Diego for the last couple of years. He's in town looking for Vladimir Basta," Nell explained.

"Damnit! That's insane!" Sam nearly yelled. "They're looking for Jason Tedrow. They know your face, G."

His partner calmly shook his head. "I never saw them and they never saw me. As far as we all know now, Tedrow is gone. And you know me, I will BE Ceca, not look like a cover. If we work fast and we work together, we might stop this Zurcin branch of these mobs ánd find out what it is they wanted. You see, we need you too, Sam. And I figured you prefer what we made up for you."

"Yeah. And when was the time I had a say in this? I'd rather have your back." Sam now muttered.

Callen sighed and admitted "So would I, buddy. It's just… this language thing. But never mind, you'll be around. Since an MP got killed, you could be the liaison of NCIS for the Military Police. You should try and find out who is the one in there looking for Tedrow, and why."

Nell continued. "Kensi and Deeks will be your back-ups. We'll provide both of you with camera buttons and watches with built-in GPS and microphones, so from ops we'll follow your tracks as well."

"Now, Mr. Hanna, that sounds as a solid plan, don't you think? Director Vance is alright with it and LAPD is willing to assist wherever necessary."  
Hetty had shown up as stealthy as ever.  
"So, you and I could go through your paperwork and identity. And of course, we need to get you dressed and ranked properly."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**St. Sava Serbian Orthodox Cemetary Church || Los Angeles**

Best way to find more Serbians was around El Monte and Alhambra, so Callen entered the St. Sava Orthodox Church for the morning service. In one way or another it was alright to be there and he did not feel like an outsider at all.

After the service it didn't take long for Callen before he was addressed.  
The Priest came forward and Callen offered his right over his left as he greeted him "Father, bless."

The Priest kissed his right hand and looked in the man's brown eyes. "мој син, you are new in town."

"Da," Callen answered. "Looking for a short term job. A friend of mine from Pirot asked to come around. You may have met him? Vladimir Basta."

Silently, the man took Callen's hand again. "Vladimir, son of Marco?"

Callen nodded, hoping he was right. "Vladimir needed some help to find another person."

The Priest motioned to a group of people who were left inside the church, lightning candles and softly saying their prayers, all dressed in black.  
"Marco Basta. Vladimir's brother, Branco. His nephew, Danijal. Their wifes. And a friend, Goran Petrovic. They're mourning for the death of Vladimir."

He sharply inhaled. "Vladimir? But—what happened?"

The Priest walked towards the group and quietly informed the man he called Goran Petrovic, gesturing to Callen.

_-"I'd call it 'bingo'",_ Deeks said, listening to what the team leader had said and heard.

-Kensi smiled. "_Glad they speak English, at least I get it what they're talking about. He's good, isn't he?"_

Petrovic had left the others to meet Callen. "A ко си ти " [And who are you?], he asked suspiciously.

Nearly apologizing, Callen introduced himself. "Milan. Milan Ceca. Tell me, is it true? Vladimir died? What happened?"

"Da. он је убијен," [he was murdered] The other answered reluctantly said. "Why were you looking for him?"

"He did not tell you? He wanted me to help to find another person. I may have worked with the one he was looking for in San Diego."

"Meet me in ten. Blue Ford pick-up, parked on the left side of the church."  
On that, Petrovic turned to the others and Callen sighed, leaving the building already.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

He leant back against the pick-up, waiting for Petrovic to arrive.

-"_Looking sharp, buddy. The urban legend_," he heard Sam say. _"Dressed for the occasion. Brown eyes. Neat pair of trousers, black coat. New in town, heh?"_

Callen smirked in the direction of the all too familiar Dodge Challenger, parked accross the street. "Da. At least I think I found myself a job."

-"_Call that a draw. Got a new job offered too today," _Sam softly chuckled.

Then Petrovic appeared and there was no time left for any short talk with his partner. Callen drew in a deep breath. Milan Ceca got in the passenger seat and the car left.

* * *

_Thank you all for reading! As ever, your comments are very welcome!_


	4. Chapter 4

**A Draw …**

_~ Chapter 4 ~_

* * *

Petrovic wasn't a talkative person, which meant Callen could quietly observe him and pay attention to where they were going as well. He quickly glanced in the rear view mirror and as expected, he noticed the Challenger was following, although Sam had been careful enough to leave some other cars between his car and the Ford.

"So… where did you say we're going?" he asked the man behind the wheel.

The answer came reluctant and in his mother tongue. "Центар**, **мојим пријатељима" [downtown, to meet friends].

Callen nodded. "Ако ваши пријатељи Владимирс пријатељи су такође моји пријатељи" [If Vladimir's friends are your friends, they'll be my friends too].

He sighed, hoping Nell's computer had a quick translation program running. On the other hand, he realized Hetty would probably understand most of what they were saying, and a small smile appeared on his face.  
Callen had been practicing the language of the region nearly all night long, and he was glad he did since it had been years ago he last had used it. Serbian was one thing, but if he wanted to stay in cover he had to use the language that was spoken in the region Milan Ceca would be living -a mix of Bulgarian and Serbian.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**St Hill Street || Los Angeles**

Sam had been around when the car was parked near 'The Maian' and watched both man entering the night club.

"Do you think I should go in there too, Hetty?" he wanted to know.

-"_They're closed. On weekdays they are, I mean. No shows tonight either,"_ the answer came from Deeks.

Sam smiled. "Should have known, Deeks. Any clubs in town you haven't visited?"

One of the typical Deeks-snorts reached his ears. "_The girls in there are great, Sam. Probably all European_." "_What!_?" he then heard Deeks saying. "_I love it when they talk to you in a language you don't understand_!"

-"_Don't want to know."_ Kensi reacted.

Then Hetty answered. "_You'll be late for work, Mr. Hanna. And Mr. Callen will be alright."_

He slowly breathed out. Sure, he too wanted to believe Callen would be alright. Sam also knew his partner had been right – Jason Tedrow never met them before.  
It was just… that itchy feeling Sam could not shake off. He related it to the fact that this time he never was involved in the planning.  
It would be alright in the end.

It always was.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**St Hill Street || Los Angeles**

Although the sign at the door said 'closed', the door was opened soon after Petrovic gave a special knock on it. Petrovic then turned to Callen and, with a faint smile, he asked "Ready?"

"Naravno" [certainly] Callen answered, following Petrovic and the man who had opened the door.

With the colored lenses he was wearing it took a little while longer to let his eyes adjust to the darkness of the club they had entered.

They passed the lobby and crossed a dance floor. Another door, immediately next to what must be the main stage, led through a narrow passage to a richly decorated lounge area.

"Wait here," Petrovic ordered as he motioned to the other man to stay with Callen.

Petrovic passed through another door and immediately closed it. Behind it Callen could hear more male voices.

Although this club was closed by now, it was warm inside and he decided that taking off the black, light woolen coat would be alright. The ocean blue button down shirt, neatly tucked into the dark grey jeans, made his skin look darker and his now brown eyes completed the look.

The gaze of the man who was left with Callen never left the movements of the special agent. He could feel the man was curious but had learned to not ask any questions.  
Several minutes later a small, nervous looking man came their way, whispered something to the man with Callen who left upon that to the same directions they'd come from.

Then, the man addressed Callen. "Ceca?"

Callen nodded and smiled politely. "You may call me Milan."  
Instead of a polite introduction, the man nearly growled "Come in."

Much to his surprise, they entered another but smaller lounge area. Definitely the part of the nightclub that was used for the more private parties, with a small stage in the middle and about twenty dark, red velvet seats around it.

He counted seven more men sitting or leaning on the small bar, the unfriendly man, Petrovic and himself not included.

Petrovic now nearly nervously introduced him. "This is the man. Milan Ceca."

Once again, Callen smiled politely. He knew that now, in what might last for about an hour, he needed to be prepared for giving the exact answers they expected to hear from him.

"Дакле, долазите из Пирота" [So, you're from Pirot]…

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

"Impeccable, so far," Hetty mumbled gratefully, hearing all the information Callen had given the men. Not that she ever doubted the lead agent, he was well prepared and luckily, he knew the region.

Sure, Hetty trusted all the others of the team to go undercover too, since that was part of their selection. But she knew from experience that with Callen it was more than a cover. He had that extra she had never seen with agents before, the talent to turn himself into anyone he wanted at any time.

It was however still hard for her to realize that this talent was probably the result of his troubled past, where he had to adjust to new situations on a nearly daily base. Life had been hard for the shy little boy she once had found on the Romanian beach and not a single week went by without Hetty regretting to see that Callen still had troubles to attach to people and things.

She concentrated once again to what the lead agent answered to the questions.  
'No, he never swam in Lake Krupac, always in Berovacko Lake since it was closer to where he had lived and yes, he had played hide and seek on the walls of the fortress. His Baba and Dada still lived nearby the fortress and yes, they visited the Church of the Nativity of Christ on a daily base. The tattoo? From Damir, of course.'

"Mr. Beale, Miss Jones, what did the systems catch so far?"

The swift response of the small analyst came "So far, we've got seven faces out of nine. Not all of them too clear. It's pretty dark in there."

"I'm working on that," Eric added. "From the seven faces, I managed to sharpen six of them and those persons of interest are ready for further identification."

The older woman smiled appreciatively. "Keep working on that."  
She then pushed a button on the tablet she had taken with her and the camera position switched.

"Mr. Hanna, are you in a position to speak?" she wanted to know.

"Lieutenant Colonel James T. Smith at the Los Angeles Air Force Base hears what you're saying, Hetty," Sam answered. "I'm about to have a meeting with the superior of Luke Ferris. And yes, I will ask if Chris Bryant ever popped up on their radar as well."

"Mind you, Mr. Hanna, it is too early to drop the name of Jason Tedrow." Hetty nearly giggly added.  
"Mr. Beale is going through Tedrow's records as we speak. We all seem to be curious what the man has been doing since Kristen Donnely ditched him. Good luck to you!"

She cut of the direct line with Sam Hanna and concentrated once again to what the other senior agent was hearing or saying.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**St Hill Street || Los Angeles**

Callen had been pretty sure he had turned to all of the men in the room, hoping Nell and Eric would be able to have their programs run and identify whoever was in here indeed.

It appeared that the question hour had passed.

He finally managed to finish his Slivovitsj and felt uncomfortable immediately now everybody had started talking again, but apparently ignored him.

Callen noticed how Goran Petrovic softly informed the only man who had not asked him anything at all.

That suddenly changed now. "So, Milan Ceca. What is it exactly that our Vladimir Basta wanted you to do?"

* * *

_Thank you for reading; please do leave your review!_

* * *

Skippy1967 | Linda Wigington | Shaz | Guest 1&2 | G | BlueDogsRock | EvaMcBain2009 | BH72 | justdreaming-83 : Thank you so for leaving your reviews on the latest chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

**A Draw …**

_~ Chapter 5 ~_

* * *

He hesitated for a while. "Vladimir contacted me because of my job in San Diego. He told me he wanted to contact somebody."

"Who?"

That one-word sentence made others look up, curious what this new man's response would be and Callen knew all too well that he could not fail to answer the question.

"He was looking for Jason Tedrow." Callen simply answered, keeping his gaze fixed on the man who had spoken and who still sat in the darkest part of the lounge.

"Da. And you think you—you can be of any assistance?" The same man asked.

Without giving anything else away, Callen nodded and said "I think so."  
He noticed how Petrovic seemed to relax and he started to discuss something with the two men he sat next to. Something that others probably did not overhear.

"Dragan, Goran, Ivan, make sure you explain all that this mister Milan Ceca needs to know. Then find a good place for tonight's dinner and the four of you can come back in here tonight. You will enjoy tonight's show."

On that, the man turned and left the room.

Goran Petrovic stepped towards Callen and patted him on the shoulder. "Welcome, Milan. Now Stankovic is satisfied, you will work with us. Come, let's eat."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

"Did you get the man's name?" Nell saw Eric's fingers hesitate when he typed the name they assumed they heard.

"Stankovic. Doing an Instant Criminal Background Check," Eric said. "Although a first name and a clear picture would be better for NICS."

"But you could try and relate him to Goran Petrovic, that dead guy Markovic and Vladimir Basta. Right?"

"Uh, sure. And all those others the system is looking for," Eric answered. "Was wondering, Nell, since you did the paperwork for Callen, did you find him a place to live in town?"

"Well, actually I did not. He came up with one of those obscure hotels he stayed in before Hetty bought him the house, near the Marina. No way he's going to use his own place during an operation. And Sam will stay on the base."

"Michelle won't like that at all," Eric said.

"Neither do I, Mr. Beale." Hetty sighed, suddenly having appeared from out of nowhere. "For all of us, Jason Tedrow should better soon leave the land of the living for good if you'd ask me. He's getting a real pain in the butt."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Sure, Callen had shared some glasses of Slivovic with his current companions.  
A silent smile appeared on his face as he thought it might be his own roots that had made him quite immune for the alcohol. Still, Callen drank some water too, wanting to stay sober enough and continuously aware of what went on around them.

For the other men, he seemed to be casual enough and it did not take him that much to adjust to the company.

He found out most of the men he'd met that day had lived in Serbia themselves. The large and strongly built man that sat next to him, Draga Hodac however was an exception, he was born in Los Angeles.

Again, these men had wanted to know so much of why Vladimir Basta had called him, Milan Ceca. After all, he was somebody that never had popped up on their radar before. What had his job been in San Diego, and how did he get to know the man they were looking for?  
Then, moments before the four of them were to visit The Maian again, Callen dropped the question he wanted to be answered. "So, why was Vladimir looking for this Tedrow guy?"

Hodac wet his lips, glanced at the others and then told him "Jason Tedrow has got money - lots of money. Vladimir found out when he was in jail, staying with a former mate of this Tedrow, Joey Gale. That was years ago, but never mind."

Callen smirked. "I know lots of people who have got lots of money. So, why this Tedrow guy? I mean, I've worked with him for a while. He's Military Police."

Petrovic returned the smirk. "Dirty cop. Word goes, lately he's financed some Mexican 'coworkers'" - he used his fingers to make air quotes – "and Stan-the-man needs some money to keep the business running. Jason Tedrow seems to know how to make quick money. Our task is to, let us say, convince him to do some financing."

Callen nonchalantly mentioned "He doesn't really seem to be the person that likes to be convinced if you'd ask me."

"He will be, once we'll talk to this sweet little daughter, Milan."

Instead of one careful sip of Slivovic, Callen gulped it down and blinked his eyes several times, careful not to show his surprise on those last sentence.  
A daughter?

The dirty blonde, long and lean Ivan Bogdan added to what Petrovic had just told. "Stankovic wants more than money. Missiles. Small and easy to transport missiles that he wants to use in Serbia."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Lodges of Los Angeles Air Force Base**

Sure, he was a Navy Seal and Sam knew the drilling of working in any of the US military services. So, blending in the surroundings as Lieutenant Colonel James T. Smith was a cover he felt comfortable with.

However, talking to the superior of Luke Ferris had been disappointing. Ferris had proven to be a loyal member of the Military Police.

"So far, nobody in here heard the name of Chris Bryant before," he reported as he called Hetty.

"Anything else that came in as suspicious so far, Mr. Hanna?" she wanted to know.

He sighed, not really knowing if and how he was to tell how he had thought he was being watched? How it felt as if others recognized him, while he could not remember having seen them before?

He cleared his throat and said "Nothing so far, Hetty. How about the wonder twins, have they found anything on Jason Tedrow so far?"

"Ahum," he heard Nell say. "Wonder twins? No, Tedrow appears to have been a very silent guy so far."

"That is, as far as our systems can find. The things Callen heard tonight however, prove the contrary," Eric now joined the conversation. "Which makes me doubt the computer systems for the first time in my entire career," he added in a sad voice.

Sam was quiet for a while, then suggested "I'd better get some sleep. If I don't learn anything new by tomorrow morning at, let's say, 10 sharp, I'll start dropping the Tedrow-name, alright?"

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

Henrietta Lange had taken her seat behind the large antique desk she loved so much. She let out a deep sigh.  
Never had she imagined that a workout on a beach of the two senior agents and a coincidental meeting with a shooting would grow to be a far larger case.  
A case she now started to doubt her team alone was able to handle.

Yes, of course she had agreed on Sam Hanna's last suggestion.  
Jason Tedrow was a ghost, and ghost hunting could be more dangerous than both Sam Hanna and G. Callen ever expected.

Sending in both the junior agents was an impossible thing to do by now. Hetty knew she had to trust the training of both senior agents. Still… her gut feeling had changed but she did not know which of the variable factors would be the exact one that needed interaction. A good night's sleep might help.

It was time she sent the two youngest workers of her team, Nell and Eric, back home. Their equipment should do the trick and she needed them sharp.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**The Maian, St Hill Street || Los Angeles**

"Ziveli!"

More Slivovic came his way as the four of them had returned to the cozy lounge in the nightclub. Young girls, clothes that hardly left anything to the imagination, lots of booze and happy voices. Even when a far too young girl was encouraged to giddily sit down on his lap, Callen managed to keep up the cover.  
Still, he knew the girls weren't around voluntarily and it was an odd thing to keep smiling when at the same time he tried to stay focused on how an obvious human trafficking business could be stopped.

-"_not a bad cover at all_," Deeks smiled at Kensi as he heard the sounds coming in through Callen's systems. The look on her face proved she had other ideas about it.

Both of them then heard other men speaking in that language they did not understand.

"Tako, Marko i mi ћемо узети девојку" [So, Marko and I will take the girl], Ivan Bodgan said.

"Da. Draga, Milan i mi ћемо наћи Тедров и убеди га да иде са нама" [Yes. Draga, Milan and I will find Tedrow and convince him to go with us], Petrovic then added.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Sea Rock Inn || Venice, Los Angeles**

Callen never had been a good sleeper and this night was one of the many he was sleepless in a bed that wasn't his own.

Although the clan he had been staying with all afternoon and last night had been convinced that getting Jason Tedrow to a place where he could be persuaded to get to either money or missiles, Callen had not a clue to who they were about to get.

After all, Jason Tedrow was just an old alias, HIS old alias. A ghost who never existed. A ghost he had said he knew…

No way he knew who they were really after.  
What troubled him too was the fact that, no matter the fact he would not be able to find Jason Tedrow, these men were about to get 'a daughter' to get that unknown Jason Tedrow working with them.

Whose daughter?

* * *

_Thank you so far for your comments, reviews and thoughts on what's going on!_

* * *

**A/N** Any names or places of people mentioned in this story were made up. Even though they may sound familiar, they're just used coincidental and are not related to real life.


	6. Chapter 6

**A Draw …**

_~ Chapter 6 ~_

* * *

Goran Petrovic had picked him up from the shabby hotel Callen had stayed for this night and they'd stopped to get something to eat and a large coffee. Callen needed that, the caffeine would keep him sharp.

He had hardly slept at all and let several scenarios pass his mind, yet he still was not able to figure out what would happen this day.

"Finish the drink, Milan. Draga is waiting for us. When—Right before Vladimir died he called us and said he thought he found somebody who was about to tell him where Jason Tedrow could be found."

Callen knew the others would hear that too. Would the MP really have known more about it? In a nonchalant way he responded "He did!? So Vladimir didn't really need me after all. You could have told me."

Petrovic continued. "If Vladimir was right, there's only one spot we can go and stay on the lookout. You will recognize him, you can address him. Show him, convince him to come with us," he nearly chuckled.

A faint smile appeared on Callen's face. "Sure. Let's go."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Lodges of Los Angeles Air Force Base**

Like every night, Sam had fallen asleep soon and he slept like he always did. Probably another habit he picked up during the time he was a Navy SEAL. On missions abroad, he'd learned that he needed to rest during the times he was not on a watch.

Of course he missed his own bed and being with his family, but he had the feeling this operation would end sooner than he or Callen envisioned. And yes, he hoped this feeling was right indeed.

Breakfast at this place was good and he dawdled to go to the base because he was not too sure that someone would be around to tell him what he needed to hear.  
A short run would be good to clear his head and get sharp.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

The three men were posting in the large, blue Ford Pickup, watching so many people passing the car.  
Both other man obviously did not feel the need to share any thoughts. Callen could not do anything but keep in mind he needed the continuous concentrated gaze up on his face, although he still had no clue who he needed to look for.

Even he sat up straight hearing the loud ringtone coming from Petrovic's cell phone. "Da—you sent it?—савршен – perfect. I'll show the others."  
It was a short call. Petrovic wasn't the man for lots of words so it seemed.

Draga Hodac asked his companion "What was it?"

"Ivan and Marko have their camera in position. They're ready for the next move when this man won't cooperate. Milan, what's your mobile number?"

Hetty had given him a non-traceable cellphone and Callen had learned the number by heart, so he simply answered. Petrovic pressed some buttons, then said "Sent it to your phones too."

Just like Hodac, Callen checked his phone and watched the small screen. He was well aware that all playgrounds nearly looked the same. This one however looked far too familiar. The shock hit him as he suddenly did recognize it and the loathing of this situation made him nauseous in the blink of an eye.

He looked away, trying to hide the disgust that he thought was clearly in his eyes.

Then there were the words Petrovic spoke. "You think that's our guy?"

Callen swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat as he looked up.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

"Nêh, he probably took it off. Having a shower or something like that," Eric said. "Or do you think I should give him a call?"

Nell muttered. "No, of course you aren't calling him. I mean, if he left his cam and watch off, he won't have taken his phone either. Don't tell me YOU would shower with your phone, Duh."

Eric swiveled his chair to face his female coworker. "You know that Callen told me Sam had not taken a gun or a phone when they went running?"

"Careless. Or should I say utterly stupid for a senior agent? In fact, I would expect that from Callen. Never Sam."

"Well, we should give him a chance to wake up at his own pace," Eric acknowledged.

"True," Nell agreed.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

It had been a good choice indeed to get running. Now all he needed was a refreshing shower and he'd be ready to face the day, Sam thought.

A sudden feeling of paranoia hit him as he noticed a blue Ford that was parked outside the compound.  
Paranoia. Something that perfectly fitted his partner, not him. Sam sighed deeply as an itchy feeling crept in to haunt his mind.  
'Must have something to do with Callen'. No matter how clever, quick and unseen his partner could think and act, he needed Sam for a back-up. Always.

He glared at the Ford, not knowing if or not he should stop and see if his partner was in there. He decided he'd better keep running and call the office to hear if there was anything he needed to know.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

"It's him. I can tell from the way he recognizes you, Milan," Draga said. "Your turn now!"

Callen nodded, numbly. He could warn Sam. Should warn the others. Press some buttons on his phone, the number he could dream. Keep Leila safe. Stiffly, he stepped out of the car and addressed the man who just ran past it.  
"Hey!" he said in a loud and demanding voice, making Sam look up.

-"_What I__**S**__ he doing_?" Eric asked Nell.

-"_Incoming call_," she answered, immediately followed by a snappy "_Get Hetty_."

"What?" Sam looked at his partner, stupefied by what was going on.

"Don't ask," Callen softly spoke. "I—I really don't get it, but they—" before he could continue, Draga Hodac had come closer and, in a swift move, a syringe came Sam's way. It came quick and it was impossible to avoid the inevitable short sting. He did want to run since he knew things were wrong.

In matter of seconds, however, his body refused to move and his vision blurred.

"Callen, what's is going—"

"Milan… Need your help," Hodac instructed as he caught the swaying body of Sam Hanna. "Quick, get him in the back of the truck."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

Hetty saw the pictures and knew she needed to act quick.

"Good Lord… mister Beale, get Miss Blye on the phone and tell her to hurry to Port Road Elementary school to keep Leila Hanna safe," Hetty ordered as she saw what Nell showed her.  
"I'll call Michelle… And you, Miss Jones, call Leila's teacher, Joelle, at the school and tell her to try and get the girl inside."

Of course they had to keep calm. These twists however troubled Hetty more than she wanted to show.

She'd try to keep track of what was going on as the small button camera G. Callen still wore on his shirt, kept sending footage.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Molino Street || Los Angeles**

From the street side the warehouse looked as if it had been abandoned years ago and maybe it was. The sign that said 'For Rent' looked even older.  
Petrovic had parked his car on the nearly empty lot, where another four cars stood waiting for their owners to be driven away again.

On the inside however, things looked far from abandoned. In one of the smaller rooms that previously might have been an office, Sam Hanna sat on a chair, his hands tied to the back. He still felt groggy and with no clue whatsoever why he was where he was and what Callen had to do with it.

Three men stood near to him, leaning to the wall. His partner was one of them. Two more faced him. Whatever they planned, Sam knew Callen was not in a position right now to save him.

Draga Hodac and a man they called Igor stood in front of Sam Hanna – asking where the money was taken.  
Callen could tell beforehand that the former Navy SEAL would never gave away anything. He also noticed that Sam was not wearing his cam or his watch, which surprised him.

Although Callen appeared to be all relaxed, like the others, his mind was working overtime. It had been that Jag lawyer, Kirby, who had been the one who had stolen the money and they had never been able to locate it.

Who did they think Sam was? Why would they think Sam was the one who knew more? How should _HE_ address his partner?

Callen stepped towards the men and took over the questioning. "Now listen, you and I know you've talked about it. And in case you don't remember, you may know 'we' are taking care of this girl of you."  
He understood that seeing the footage must have scared his best friend but he definitely hoped that Sam would have noticed the emphasis on the 'we', and knew that the rest of the team were indeed taking care of Leila.

He continued "You and I need try to find someone, a mutual friend to, how do you say it, to help financing for my boss. How about that?"

Callen's now brown eyes met those of his partner, begging that Sam would agree. It would probably be the quickest way out. Never had Callen realized his partner could be just as stubborn as he was right now.

"Jason Tedrow. You know where he is right now."

The slightest shake of Sam's head made it clear to Callen that things were taking the wrong turn and once again he literally felt sick when he saw how the strongest built man of the group hit his partner straight in the face, immediately followed by a serious punch in the stomach.

Should he stop it? Would he be able to? He glanced to his companions. Four in this room, armed and alert. Sam was not ready for a fight or an escape. Worse, he had heard voices nearby which meant there were more man of these Zurcin clan. Not good.  
Callen recalled Hetty's words about the LAPD being able to interfere, if necessary. Who was the one to tell if it was necessary and when?

He tried to keep his camera blocked as he saw how Petrovic and Draga Hodac kept hitting the large man who never said a word. Could it be Sam was scared his daughter was in danger?

"Tedrow. You need to tell us where to find him. You need to help us," Petrovic once again encouraged Sam to talk.  
The only answer was another slow shake of the head and all Callen wanted to do was to convince his friend to cooperate, so the two of them could get away before this situation really got out of hand.

It was the last time he could interfere without making it too obvious. "There's no escape, not a word, my friend. So it 's either you and me to get the guy, or not. Up to you."  
The stubborn look on his partner's face showed Callen that Sam was not going to do what Callen silently hoped he would have been doing. Sam closed his eyes and Callen knew he was not going to say a word.

Petrovic then took Callen's arm and guided him out of the room. "He is useless. Probably never knew anything at all. I am pretty sure we've got the wrong guy."

* * *

_Hope you liked this chapter. Please review!_


	7. Chapter 7

**A Draw …**

_~ Chapter 7 ~_

* * *

Petrovic guided Callen from the room they were in to a sort of passage in the warehouse.

"What do you mean, the wrong guy?" Callen asked, angrily pointing his finger at Petrovic. "_YOU_ said that Vladimir told you this man could help you to find Tedrow. For a while it seemed you thought he _**was**_ Tedrow when all the time I could tell you he is not!"

He hoped he sounded convincing enough, yet he continued.  
"You see, Vladimir asked _me_ to find Tedrow too. If you were to threaten me, force me or torture me to tell about him, or scare me with that I would have to tell you where the money is or else you'd hurt my kid, I'm pretty sure I would not know what to say or do either."

Petrovic raised his brow and was quiet for a while. "Still, I think this man doesn't know what we're talking about."

Callen nodded. "I agree. We'd better go back and see if Tedrow shows up at the base."

A grin appeared on the other man's face. "We might do that indeed. Wait here," he said.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

Nell sighed in relief when Kensi finally contacted her three coworkers at ops. "We're on our way to the boathouse with Leila".

"That's good to hear Kensi. Michelle will be there soon. She just called in. She's worried sick, of course. No matter that she knows too well missions and covers can get out of control, this is the first time their little girl is targeted too. It means that this Zurcin group is far more dangerous than—" Nell paused for a second and bit her under lip. "Anyway, more dangerous than Callen, Hetty and I had figured out."

"Miss Blye? Please let Mrs. Hanna know there will be one of the safe houses ready for her and the girl," Hetty responded on what the junior agent had told by phone.  
And yes, Henrietta Lange also heard what Nell just mentioned and she knew the youngest one of the team was so right.  
She slowly let out a silent breath, hoping her two senior agents would contact the office soon.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Molino Street || Los Angeles**

From where he was standing, Callen silently closed his eyes as he heard how the Zurcins kept whacking his partner. Both were seasoned agents who knew about the danger of their jobs. But seeing the other suffer was something that did not happen every day and it was sickening to think how close to the edge they were right now.

Sam hadn't been keen on the plans that Callen, Hetty and Nell had been scheming and plotting and at this moment it proved that he had been right. It wasn't worth it.  
Right now, Callen understood that getting out was far more complicated than getting in. He was thinking about using the 'agent in distress' code on the phone he carried – knowing though that the support personnel from ops still should be able to follow his camera feed.

Then Petrovic re-entered the room Callen was waiting. "You know, Milan, I simply had to consult Stankovic. He agrees – we should go back to the base to look for Jason Tedrow."

"Then you should get your men out of there and have them to join us," Callen suggested.

His brown eyes carefully observed if the other man's eyes would give away anything. There was and had been something deviously sparkling in there – as if Petrovic was on the ball all the time. Callen's gut feeling told him a lot of things were at stake. More in fact than he was in control of.

"You are right, my friend. We all have to leave this building indeed." A sly smile appeared on Goran Petrovic' face. "All of us. Including the man who does not know Jason Tedrow. He will have to go and you know that."

Callen felt his heart rate speeding. "Indeed. We might blindfold him and let him go."

"That is not what I mean."

He looked away. Although it was never that difficult to keep his face unreadable, this time Callen was afraid that his eyes would for once betray him as he felt the panic and anxiety take over his rational thoughts.

"Stankovic hinted that you might be the one who would be able to get rid of the man," Petrovic carried on in a casual tone.

He slowly breathed in and clenched his jaw. "He did?"

"It looks like Stan-the-Man is convinced you can do that. Maybe he did some background research. He referred to your past jobs," Petrovic said as he let his gaze go over this man standing opposite of him.

-"_But_ _I never—there is no such reference in Callen's cover. Milan Ceca has no past as an assassin. Nowhere,"_ Nell spoke slowly, startled with what they heard at Ops.

Callen tried to proceed all he was told in these few minutes. In matters of seconds he let his career pass by. Missions, covers, black ops… yet so far he never met with somebody called Stankovic.

-"_Get me director Vance on the phone,"_ Hetty required. The SWAT-team that LAPD had promised might be needed soon, before things would really run out of hand. "_And meanwhile, Mr. Beale, find out ALL you can about this Stankovic._"

Petrovic now crossed his arms in front of his chest as he waited for Callen to react. "Well?"

He gave a wordless nod, drew a deep breath and dragged himself back to the adjoining room. His partner sat on the chair, more or less unconscious of what went on.  
"Get him in a car. We need to get rid of him. The Marina may be a good place," he then ordered, his voice now cold.

Hodac and Bogdan pulled Sam from the chair and pushed, pulled and dragged him until he was rudely pushed into the back of an used Buick Lacrosse. This time Petrovic let Callen drive. Both other men took another car and followed.

-"_They're on the move Hetty_," Eric nearly yelled. "_I've lost ears but I can follow the GPS."_

It was about the only place Callen's weary mind could think of. Perhaps his other team members would be around to prevent what was about to happen. They could be, they should be…

He drove the car straight to the parking of the boathouse. No cars parked in there. No fishermen, no junior partners. He blinked his eyes several times, wondering if he would stand a chance shooting the other three armed men while saving his own and Sam's life.

The same men who pushed Sam into the car dragged him out as well and forced him down on his knees.  
Callen stood, now facing his partner, sick of seeing how the ever so strong and nearly untouchable former navy Seal was beaten up. He tried sending him a non-spoken message.

There was the same, nearly unnoticed shake of the head of his partner.  
Sam understood too well what was going on and he understood too that the lead agent would not stand a chance overwhelming the others without being shot himself.

Never before had he been forced to shoot his partner. But if _**he**_ did not do it, one of the others would do it and Callen knew – and he hoped Sam understood – that those men would should to kill.  
There was no other choice.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, afraid to look his partner in the eyes. "Sit still Sam and stay and lay still."

He breathed in deep, tried to keep his nerves under control and aimed.

* * *

_Thank you all so much for leaving your encouraging thoughts and reviews! Please do leave a review this time as well!_


	8. Chapter 8

**A Draw …**

_~ Chapter 8 ~_

* * *

Years of practicing on the fire range made that Callen usually had no trouble at all with aiming and knowing where a bullet should hit a body.  
Right now he needed to concentrate more than ever. He needed a fully controlled shot and he needed to keep his gun as steady as possible.  
He breathed in deeply and slowly breathed out, closed his eyes for a brief second and then looked up.

The deep brown eyes of his best friend were locked on his and he noticed how Sam swallowed many times before he looked away.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

"Deeks! Need to know your ETA at the boathouse!" Nell yelled in her phone.

It was quiet for a second, then the answer came. "About 10 minutes from now. Why?"

Despite the stress they were feeling at Ops, Nell was able to face the facts. Neither them nor Kensi and Deeks were able to stop Callen from what he was about to do. Perhaps LAPD, but it was clear that Sam's daughter should not witness anything that included her father.  
"Take a detour," she simply said, "keep driving and take Leila to safe house 3. I'll explain later."

She turned to Hetty who slowly shook her head.  
"No, dear, LAPD will arrive in five. Too late as well, I'm afraid. Will you please take care we have an EMT on their way from now on, Miss Jones?" the office manager expected.

"He is not doing what I think he's going to do, is he?"Eric practically whispered.

"Oh, yes he is, Mr. Beale. You see, both Mr. Hanna and Mr. Callen understand this has to be done and there is no other way out right now," Hetty softly replied. "However it requires a full trust in each other's capability."  
She let a long breath escape, not knowing IF she was able to see both senior agents struggle with their feelings.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Behind the Boathouse || Los Angeles**

He calculated the right angle, estimated the velocity, assessed the muscle thickness and tried to ignore it was his partner and best friend who he was about to hurt. Hell, he needed to distance himself from any feelings right now.

Just as he was ready to take the shot, Petrovic interrupted with a sick grin "Well, is it you who's going to shoot or should I do it myself?"

"Piss off Goran," Callen snapped as he nearly lost the focus.

Sam shuffled slightly as he once again faced his partner and it was probably only Callen who noticed the inconspicuous confirmation in his eyes.

Once again, Callen deeply inhaled and slowly breathed out, aimed and took the shot.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Sam never experienced the sound of a gunshot crack as loud as this one.  
That was seconds before his brain caught the pain that flashed through his upper body and the shock wave the bullet caused made him tumble backwards and fall against the tarmac.  
He unwantedly groaned in pain and blinked several times. As if it were in a movie Sam heard the sickening laugh of another man, far away and immediately after close by.

"Let's get away from here, Milan!"

"Need to finish the job Drogan."

Callen's voice, closer.

Sam noticed someone put something next to his arm. He slowly opened his eyes only to see the man he worked with for over seven years now stood, looking down at him. Even now, feeling terrible, Sam examined how his partner nervously wiggled his jaw. Then Callen wiped the back of his hand over his eyes, bit his lower lip and whispered quickly "I know it hurts, buddy. This will hurt your ears. Lie still."

Callen took his gun and fired again. Even from the short distance the other three men stood it was as if the bullet Callen – Milan Ceca – shot, hit the other man in the head. In fact the bullet ricocheted on the tarmac in exact the opposite direction.

He looked down for some seconds, his face now unreadable. Then he turned to the others and a grim smile appeared on his face.

"Now let's get the hell out of here before anyone turns up."

He slid behind the wheel of the Buick, waited for one of the others to enter the car as well and drove off.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

"How could he do that, being such a freaking bastard and walk away from Sam!" Nell exclaimed.  
So far she had been in control of her feelings, but now the impact of the inevitable hit both young workers at the Ops center.

Eric was quiet for a while, then he spoke in a soft voice "I knew—we saw Callen shoot bad guys before. But this… How come Sam didn't stop him, Hetty?"

The tiny operations manager stood straight, her left hand clasping the right one in front of her. She pursed her lips and thought about how to explain.  
"Mr. Hanna understood this all too well, despite the fact he was hurt. You will notice there is a lot of blood, but after a serious check up at the hospital, he will be on his feet soon enough. Mr. Callen was in ultimate control when he took the shot."

She paused for some seconds.  
"You may remember the times our senior agents posed as Clark and Dunross? That time things were the other way around and Mr. Hanna had to whack your lead agent. It's called trust your partner and when it comes to doing their jobs, both Mr. Hanna and Mr. Callen are trusting each other perfectly."  
In a softer voice, she added "Besides, this was the best way to get Mr. Hanna away from the Zurcin's. Now let us work on how to get Mr. Callen in here back as well."

Eric sighed deeply and turned back to his screen. In a surprised voice he said "The GPS now is located at where Sam is."

Deep within, Hetty did not know if that was a way for Callen to assure Sam was to be found easily or a way to go lone wolf.

She nodded. "I see. Well, the best way for us to locate Mr. Hanna in case the camera had stopped working, isn't it? Now, Mr. Beale, back to the 'Stankovic' search. Is there anything new in your systems?"

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

At the second crossing, Callen pulled over next to one of the docks, got out and emptied his stomach.

Yes, he was fully aware he had just shot his partner and despite the fact that his brain analyzed it was for a good cause, it was sickening to think he left his friend bleeding on the street—just like that.

He let his hands go through his short hair, wondering how he could ever face his co-workers again after they'd seen him doing what he just did.  
Another wave of nausea hit him, leaving him dry heaving before he slowly got up.

There was no time for thinking as Petrovic shouted from the still opened car door "Stan-the-Man wants us in and report. Get in. I'll drive."  
Callen got on his feet and did like his current partner asked.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Boathouse || Los Angeles**

Sam noticed the dark red Cherokee that came to a halt near where a LAPD officer already stood, guarding the crime scene tape.  
Michelle hurried to her husband. "My god Sam, what happened?"

"He's your husband?" the EMT asked. Michelle Hanna nodded and the man continued "He got shot. And before that he definitely got severely beaten up. He's lucky to be alive. We're taking him to the hospital for further examination and treatment."

A faint smile appeared on Sam's pale face. "Callen did it, Michelle. I'm pretty sure I'll be home by tomorrow."

He read the shock in her eyes. "He did what… Shoot you?"

"It was his way to keep me safe," Sam nearly gratefully sighed.

The EMT shook his head, hearing this man talk about someone both the wife and the husband seem to know. "We need to go now, sir".

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Callen expected them to go back to the club but instead Petrovic drove to another part of town and parked the car in a private parking garage near Hawthorne Boulevard.

"You'll like the place," Petrovic stated. "Private club, private girls.

He must have felt the mood Milan Ceca was in right now and he added "You can freshen up first. You look like you met the devil himself who asked you to draw straws and you lost."

Callen nodded numbly.

Petrovic patted his shoulder. "Relax, Milan. The party will start later. I'll show you, c'mon," he now sounded friendly as he took the lead.  
"The three upper floors belong to the boss. Roof terrace with pools and bars, private rooms to relax and freshen up," he told Callen. "There will be shirts, swim shorts and trousers in various sizes and colors in the wardrobe. Pick whatever you like."  
He halted near a corridor and gestured "Take room 4.32. Second on the left."

Again, Callen only nodded. He walked on, opened the door and closed it behind his back. Then he sighed deeply, headed to the bathroom and let the taps run. He quickly checked for any camera's and listening devices and took his phone and dialed the number he knew by heart.

Without any introduction he inquired "How's Sam?

He should have known Hetty put the phone on speaker and instead of her it was Deeks who responded.

-"_If you'd had the guts to stay around you'd know he's hospitalized. Thanks to his lousy partner whose butt he saved several times but who now simply walked away_."

"Was not asking your opinion Deeks," he coldly replied. "Hetty, how's Sam?"

-"_Your partner will have a swift recovery, Mr. Callen_."

He swallowed. "Did I—No arterial bleeding?"

-"_No_." Hetty sensed how the lead agent struggled with the fear he had hurt his partner more than he meant and she tried to sound as optimistically as possible. "_Straight shot through and through."_

"Deltoid?"

The simple hum as an answer which made him breath out in relief.

"Blood loss?" Callen wanted to know.

-"_Nothing to worry about. Now, you on the contrary should be the one I am worrying about. What was that what Stankovic hinted at, knowing you would have killed someone?"_

"Really Hetty, I don't—"  
A knock on the door interfered and he said "Gotta go now." He disconnected and hid his phone under a pillow on the bed, checked if his gun was still loaded, holstered it back and opened the door.

The two young girls on the corridor were scarcely dressed and were obviously waiting for him to let them in.  
Callen sent them a half smile he knew most women loved and said "Not now, sweeties".

One of the girls pouted and responded "Sramota [a pity]… Petrovic sent us."

"Maybe later tonight?" Callen suggested, but he changed his mind when he looked at the nervous faces of the girls. They probably simply did what was ordered. "Or—" he glanced over the corridor, looking if someone overheard them. "Or would you prefer to go home again?"

His gut feeling said those girls weren't here voluntarily at all and if he could do anything within his power to get them out of this life, he would give it a try.  
The silent answer said enough and he invited them in.

* * *

_Right... Thanks again for reading. As ever, your reviews encourage me to go on [and so does the calendar! April 11 is coming near, and so is the end of the story...]_


	9. Chapter 9

**A Draw …**

_~ Chapter 9 ~_

* * *

There were soft footsteps in the corridor, muffled by the carpet and Callen did not know to whom they belonged.  
Another guest? He wasn't too sure. Where Sam would call it paranoia, Callen simply based his gut feeling on the years of insecurities, being harmed and staying alive.  
He whispered "Girls, please laugh and giggle."

"Oh, I would really love that," he spoke louder, as the girls simply did what he had asked. Indeed, his trained ears heard that whoever it was, walk on, probably to brief Petrovic or Stankovic.

He turned towards the girls and was not completely sure if he should introduce himself or keep his cover intact. He chose not to mention any name at all, instead he did ask them.  
"Lena," the smallest of the two said shyly. "And this is Mila. She's just turned 17."

"And do you stay at this place all the time?"

The youngest girl shook her head. "Ne. Near the airport. We're with 12 more in there."

"I think we all want to… go home. Go back to school. Be with our families," Lena said. "After ehm, after party-time in here is over, they drive us back. In a limo."

He chewed the inside of his cheek, took his phone and, for a brief second, rubbed his thumb and index finger together before he made his decision. "If you trust me enough, you may tell me the address. I'll send people over to get you out of there, tomorrow morning."

The girls exchanged some nervous glances and again, it was Lena who answered. "11815, Judah Avenue."

Callen nodded and, instead of making the call, he texted his message. "Try to behave as normally as you always do," he instructed. "Just… stay with me like you were asked." It made Mila giggle once again but before he could react to that, a beep told him there was a response from Hetty, soon followed by a second one.

"Agreed. One more question, you wouldn't accidentally know the first name of Stankovic?"

Both girls shook their heads. "They call him Stan-the-Man", Lena said. "That's all I know."

"I understand." Callen then showed them pictures of his junior agents and then said "When there's a knock on the door at the address you just mentioned, don't open up unless it is for anyone of those people or LAPD. Now, I need a shower and you can watch some television meanwhile."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

Eric smiled as he showed the last footage he had received – a bed, a wardrobe and a pair of woman's legs and shoes. "Callen's phone is still at the same location. Camera feed stopped however at a certain moment," he told.

"Director Vance contacted the BIA," Nell whispered, turning to Eric.

Her tech partner raised his brow "The what?"

"BIA, the Serbian informativna agencija. I heard Vance mention it to Hetty. She had put her phone on the speaker – again," Nell spoke in a soft voice. "And guess what. No Stankovic in their systems either."

"And, Miss Jones, how are _**our**_ systems doing so far?" Hetty stood behind them, causing both young workers to turn to her, then back to their screens, shocked as once again they had not heard her entering.

"Nothing. Not on Stankovic, not on Jason Tedrow. Dead ends." Eric answered.

Nell continued. "And I still don't have a clue on how Stankovic mentioned that Callen's alter ego Milan Ceca could be associated with any assassinations."  
She reddened slightly and suddenly started to speak faster "Not Ceca. But what if—we know Callen is able to shoot, to kill if necessary. What if Stankovic knows Callen? Not Milan Ceca. Not Jason Tedrow, but Callen himself. What if the two of them met before?"

"Callen would remember. He always remembers cases and names," Eric thought. "He never draws a blank if you'd ask me."

Nell mulled over what Eric just mentioned and she knew he was right. "But people change. Names can be changed. Faces can be changed. Scary."

Hetty softly gasped. How come they hadn't thought about this before? If this was true, Callen had walked straight into the Lion's Den.  
"Miss Jones, will you please call Jethro Gibbs. He and Callen were in Serbia together. Find out what they were working on, who they met and explain to him we're on a tight schedule."

"Are we?" Eric's eyes widened on those last words. "We are," he then mumbled.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Hawethorne Way || Los Angeles**

Callen leaned his elbows and forehead against the wall and let the warm water of the shower flow over his body. Although the shower was relaxing, his mind still was in a whirl.  
Some things fit in what he had expected to happen, but most things simply were not. He needed to find out why they'd hit on Sam. And where and how did Jason Tedrow fit in the image?

Tedrow had been a dirty MP. The MP that was killed now, by Vladimir Basta, had been looking for Tedrow. So, what was it that Basta was trying to cover? Was Basta looking for Tedrow as an adversary? Or, albeit too ridiculous to really consider, could it be that Stankovic had someone posing as Tedrow at the base?

He silently grinned as this last thought might have been one that Deeks usually came up with as one 'out of the box' suggestion.

He decided to get dressed and find out as much as he could before he reported back to Hetty.

"Ladies," he smiled at Lena and Mila, "care to join me?"

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

She had put the Phone on speaker as there were so many things Gibbs was telling about the time he and Callen worked together for NCIS.  
"Really… Hetty, how come Callen never told us?" Nell wanted to know.

"It was a black ops, Miss Jones. That is why nothing of it is listed in his files. Remind me to thank Gibbs once Mr. Callen is back at our office."

Even for Hetty it had come as a surprise. Gibbs and Callen had spent time in Pirot, that was what they all heard the lead agent say. Only now Hetty had put the time table right - 2003...  
Rumors had been going about the possible assassination of the president of Serbia, Djindjic, back in 2003, which would ruin the just achieved stability in the Balkan.  
Gibbs told how they had found the person who plotted it all, Stanko Pavlovic and hunted him down in Pirot. It had been Gibbs, as a sniper, who missed his first shot, and Callen who took a shot at closer range. When companions of Pavlovic came near, they left Pavlovic who was critically wounded, behind in the Pirot fort . Despite all efforts, Zoran Djindjic was killed only two weeks later, when Gibbs and Callen had returned safely back in Washington.

"It still doesn't explain this case, does it?" Kensi asked.  
She and Deeks had Michelle Hanna united with her daughter Leila on a safe location and returned back in head quarters only minutes earlier.

Slowly, Hetty shook her head. "It does not and yet I have the feeling it might do," she sighed. Then she clapped her hands and said "Instead, ladies and gentlemen, I suggest we all need to go home, have a good night's sleep and return to work sharper than ever."

"Wait-wait…" Nell kept looking at her screen. "Stanko Pavlovic. Stankovic… What happens when I let our systems look for a Pavlovic in Los Angeles?"

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Hawethorne Way || Los Angeles**

Callen entered a large lounge area, its opened sliding doors connecting it to the roof terrace with an enormous pool. The lights in- and outside the water were continuously changing colors, strangely illuminating the men and girls in the pool. Others were inside, having a drink and chatting.

He looked around and noticed the men he had spent part of the day with. Not his best day. For a brief second he closed his eyes and concentrated on being Milan Ceca once again.

"Ej," he greeted them as he ordered a Spynest Crno Pivo, a beer he liked to drink.

"Milan, you look pretty relaxed. Did the girls, ehm, assist you with that?" Petrovic asked.

He smirked. "Oh yeah. Great treatment indeed. They're, how shall I say, well educated."  
It made the others smile.

"So… čomplimenc to the bos", he continued.

"You should tell him yourself Milan," the tall blond Bogdan told him. "He's outside, near the pool."

"Will do so," Callen declared. "How do you address him, boss, Stan-the-man, Stankovic?"

"Boss will do. Goran is about the only one who uses his Christian name, Pavlov."  
The name did not ring any bells.

"Let me join you, Milan," Goran Petrovic suggested. "I see he's busy talking, but I think they don't mind."

Stankovic was dressed in a bathrobe and he occupied one of the sun beds which he had put in an upright position. The man next to him leaned over, his elbows on his knees and discussing an obvious serious matter.

"Pavlov… there are some things Milan wants to share," Petrovic introduced.

"Get our guest some slivovic, Goran," Stankovic ordered. Then he addressed Callen. "So. Milan Ceca," he emphasized. "Sharply dressed. No swimming tonight?"

Callen shook his head. "No sir. I just had a refreshing shower and some welcome company. Thank you."

Petrovic came back with two tiny glasses and offered one to Callen, keeping the other for himself. "živeli, my friend!"

"Cheers," Callen retorted, as he emptied the small glass in one gulp like he should do.

"I think I need introduce you to our other guest," Petrovic suggested, gesturing at the man next to Stankovic. "Milan, meet Jason Tedrow."

There was not that much Callen could think of what to say, so he simply smiled.

"Come and join me to my apartment. I need to get properly dressed and there is so much to discuss," Stankovic politely asked as he nodded to his second man.  
Like earlier that night, Petrovic patted Callen's shoulder. This time, he added the barrel of a gun poking Callen's right part of the chest.

Stiffly, he joined the three men to the first door on the inside of the lounge area.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

In matter of seconds, one of the computers beeped. "Like I thought – Pavlovic." Nell let her eyes dart over the screen as she swiftly summarized. "Owns 'the Maian' and at least one private plane, probably more, stationed at Hawthorne Municipal."

"That's Jack Northrop Field, right? Close to where Callen is right now." Deeks recounted.

"Facial Recognition coming—on screen," Eric mumbled. "This is the man we're looking for." He turned back to his tablet and linked the other six POI they had been looking at the day before, to the one on screen.

"And… Action!" he spoke, more or less to his own tablet. Next to the pictures on the large screen, names popped up as well. "These persons can all be linked to Pavlovic."

The deep voice of Sam sounded from the entrance door of the Ops. "Lazar."

"Sam!" Kensi nearly sang. "I never expected you in here, right now!"

"Holy cow… Did you escape from the nurses?" Deeks wanted to know.

He was about to shake his head but remembered just in time that the bandages would prevent that. "Discharged, Deeks. I know it looked horrid and to be honest, I'm glad someone invented painkillers. But all in all, I'm okay. Now, Eric, check Lazar. I believe I've heard the name yesterday."

"Stefan Lazar. Former Vojska Srbije – Serbian army," Eric read.

"Would easily blend in at any military surroundings, I'd say," Kensi remarked.

"Mr. Beale, Miss Jones, try and find—" Before Hetty finished, Eric interrupted "Picture on screen!"

They all were quiet for a second, looking at the picture on the large screen. "I think we found Jason Tedrow," Nell concluded.

* * *

_Thanks again, all of you, for sticking with this story ánd leaving your great reviews._  
You may well be aware that, since this story is an entry for Callen's Corner Challenge #4, there is a reward as well for the most heartfelt review on any of the entries.


	10. Chapter 10

**A Draw …**

_~ Chapter 10 ~_

* * *

His vision was blurry and Callen blinked his eyes several times, then rubbed them, although Petrovic warned him not to make any unexpected moves.  
Tedrow… Hetty had told them all he was gone, yet the name showed up once more earlier this week.  
And now there were two of them?—It was so confusing.  
Callen had trouble thinking clearly. Now he and Tedrow were here together. Not possible.

He should have trusted his gut feeling and felt utterly green – he now knew for sure the Slivovic Petrovic had offered him had been drugged.

Callen had not taken notice where they were going to but all of a sudden they had entered a large apartment and he flopped down on the first chair he saw.

"My man Lazar found a picture of Tedrow. The description fit. But of course he is not the real Jason Tedrow," Stankovic now turned to him again.

"Know that," Callen responded.

"But then, you are not the real Milan Ceca. Just imagine my surprise when you simply came walking in my place, offering your help. Until some days ago, I never knew you've been Jason Tedrow too. But I do remember you, agent Callen. Although I made sure nobody would remember Pavlovic so I've made some… alterations."

"Guess-o. Rohypnol?" he realized his words were slurring by now and he had trouble focusing on what the other man was saying.

Somebody touched him and Callen wanted to push him away.

The naked upper body of a man then stood in front of him. "See this?" Since there was no answer from Callen, the man continued "Pirot, 2003. You did this to me, mister Callen. You were the one who stood close to me and took the shot."

Dizzily Callen shook his head. "Pirot was Pavlovic."

He heard the laughs, they came from three different places. It seemed hours later someone spoke again.

"Take the elevator."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

Kensi looked at the screen. The picture of Stefan Lazar may just as well have been one of Jason Tedrow indeed. "How did they do that? I mean… It is not Tedrow like Callen was, but I get the picture."

"I would not be surprised if he used a fake ID as well," Sam said. "You know, when I talked to this superior of Luke Ferris at the Air Force Base? Ferris was clean. He must have been a great guy as well. The name Tedrow was never mentioned, but Wilkins, the man I spoke with, mentioned Ferris had reported something on Lazar. If I remember well it was about Lazar who'd submitted lots of declarations lately and practically arranged all outgoing orders. Besides it was said he broke the rules letting visitors in. Something that is not allowed, of course".

"So Ferris suspected something was going on?" Kensi asked.

Sam nodded. "And Lazar must have heard it, or perhaps Ferris mentioned it personally, questioning Lazar about it. I think Lazar sent his friends to Hermosa Beach."

For a minute all were quiet, then Nell said in a worried voice "But Callen doesn't know all of this. Not about Stankovic, not about 'Tedrow.' We should let him know, so he might walk out of there."

Deeks looked at his watch. "They're probably having dinner or something like that. What if we called him?"

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Hawethorne Way || Los Angeles**

He was not too sure but Callen thought he remembered how someone had mentioned the word missile. Was it now or had it been earlier?

A wave of nausea came unexpected and he couldn't stop vomiting in what he now recognized as a parking garage.

"Get him in the car," someone said.

They pushed him. It was okay. He didn't want to walk anyway.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

"No answer. Phone is still at the same place. Camera as well," Eric told the others.

"I want you to get Mr. Callen out of there," Hetty directed them in a soft voice. "I can get you two additional teams and LAPD Swat teams."

"Sure as hell we'll get him out of there Hetty," Sam responded.

"No, not you, Mr. Hanna. We need—You're not in the best shape right now. Mr. Deeks and Miss Blye should have a back-up from the teams I just mentioned."

"But… I'm the one who should have his back and you know that," Sam started arguing.

"You can guide the teams from here, from Ops," Hetty stated in a tone which made it clear to Sam that any further pushing would be useless.

Nell interrupted. "I've activated a heat detection program. It indicates there are about 40 persons in the upper two floors that belong to Pavlovic."

"Get us two SWAT Teams in there," Sam now ordered. "Peterson's and Abelli's teams are on duty. Try to avoid shooting. Be ready in 10. All in there in, let's say, 25 minutes from now. We'll guide you from here."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

It felt as if they were driving for hours and hours. Although he was determined to focus where they went, his body simply refused. Dizziness, headaches and sleepiness took over, no matter how hard he tried.

Then the car came to a halt and he was dragged out of it. The cool evening breeze alerted him and once again, Callen rubbed his tired eyes.

A phone chirped and someone cursed.

"Change of plans. Place is crouded with police right now. Hurry. We cannot leave him here as Tedrow. So we'll have to lose him on the way."

Him?—He was never a person to lose. Was he?

A voice nearby ordered "Get him in."

A chopper. Army, he told himself.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

"Eric, can you get camera feed on that Jack Northrop Field as well? Just in case," Sam inquired.

"No problemo," the tech operator replied, quickly typing some commands and the entrance of the private airstrip was on the large screen as well.

Now all they could do from here was wait and watch, with only some instructions if necessary.

Sam was about to sigh when he heard the petite Operations Manager do that too. He put his large hand on Hetty's small shoulder and looked her in the eyes. "He'll be alright Hetty. G is far too stubborn to leave without any announcement."  
He tried to send her an encouraging smile, but there was this dreading feeling in the pit of his stomach and he did not want her to read his eyes, so he quickly looked away.

They concentrated on the screen and on the interaction of the teams at Hawthorne Way that came in.

The buzzing of his phone came as a surprise. The number on the screen however was unknown to Sam. "Sam Hanna," he announced himself. The call itself was short and so was Sam's message immediately after. "Gotta go. Keep in touch."

"Mr. Hanna?" Hetty tried to stop him, but he simply reacted "I'll keep in touch, Hetty."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Nobody really took notice of the drugged man they had rudely pushed inside the helicopter. Somehow there were four men now who quickly loaded some crates inside the helicopter.

Callen desperately tried to control his breathing and focus. Missiles. Stankovic wanted missiles. Serbian mobsters worked with—he should remember, Nell told him. Mexico? Could be.

A helicopter could not fly that far.

A voice said "Ship's waiting outside Long Beach."

That would explain it. The cold air of the made him shiver and the loud sound of the rotors above him worsened his headache.

Callen hoisted himself to a more upright position. Stankovic—no, Stanko Pavlovic escaped once. He could not let that happen again. Not on his watch. If only he had a gun.

"There they are. I can see them waiting." He recognized the voice. Petrovic. The men were focusing on a waiting ship. Not on him.  
The chopper was on low airspeed already. As swift as possible, Callen grabbed the gun of the man who was near and aimed backwards, as concentrated as he could. The second most vulnerable part of a chopper, next to the pilot, was the tail rotor. From where he sat, it was the easiest target to hit.

The shot sounded loud in his ears and the pilot managed to keep the helicopter auto-rotating several times. It made him sick, as the world around him was already spinning. Callen breathed in deeply, opened the hatch he sat next to, and aimed as fast as he could at Petrovic.

Not fast enough. His hand shook and he missed.

One of the bullets Petrovic fired at him were better aimed. It really did not matter that he was hit. By now the helicopter started to spin uncontrollably. Callen estimated the height, closed his eyes and let his body fall.

Soon after the helicopter crashed with a sickening sound partly against the large ship that had expected them.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

Finally, Kensi's voice came through. "He's not here Hetty and neither is Pavlovic. There are two girls though who say they were leaving together with two or three other men. And that he – a man with brown eyes and short, dark blond hair – showed them pictures of Deeks and me."

"Get them to a save location, Miss Blye," Hetty responded. "Mr. Callen texted us about those girls earlier tonight. Human trafficking is a nasty thing."

She slowly breathed out and asked "Mr. Beale, is there anything your magical systems caught which me missed?"

He shook his head. "Not really. I mean, really, nothing."

"Then get me on the phone with Mr. Hanna. Now."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

The water was freezing and partly sobered him. All Callen knew was that he would never be able to reach the shore. Not like this. Petrovic' bullet had hit his left thigh and it was hurting like hell when he tried to move.

Callen tiredly kept himself afloat.

At least those missiles never ended up in the wrong hands. All for the good cause after all, he wryly thought.

And he trusted Kensi would fight for Mila, for Lena, and all the other girls to be able to get back to their own country. To their families.

A large wave came in from behind and made himself struggle to emerge. Maybe he should just stop struggling. He had never been afraid to die. He'd lived alone nearly all his life. Dying alone seemed so logical too. Nothing to fear. Simply—disappear.

Then there was Sam he thought about. He bit his under lip, feeling how his emotions now took over. At least Sam still had his family—and Leila still had her father.

He closed his eyes, trying if he was brave enough to dare. More waves washed over him and he took one last look at the beautiful stars.

The bright light from above was welcoming and he smiled. Perhaps there was a place where he'd meet his mother and sister again.

Callen breathed in one more time and then let it go.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

"He's not answering," Nell said in a small voice.

The older woman exclaimed "Oh bugger!" It always was the lead agent who was going lone wolf and she definitely did not appreciate the older, former Navy Seal to pull that trick on them as well.

"Find out where this last call to his phone came from."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

He was not aware that a life line hit the surface of the water. Nor that someone hoisted him in another helicopter. That someone performed rescue breathing. That they cut his trousers and quickly bandaged his leg. That his partner desperately kept tapping his face and begged to him to stay.

There only was the white light.

Until that faded as well.

The clinical smell, the tight stinging feeling on his left hand and the soft snore of Sam Hanna who slept in a chair made Callen realize where he was.

Hospital.

He removed the ventilator mask and observed his partner - grateful to be alive.

In one way or another they always ended up in a draw. There was only one to have his back. Sam.

He hummed, then coughed, then finally tapped the large under arm of his partner, who startled as he woke up.

"Sam… Thanks. You can go home now. Your family needs you too, you know."

"You're my family as well, G…"

* * *

**_fini_**

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This was the last chapter of 'A Draw'. Did I fool only myself by thinking I could keep it short & simple this time? Guess so…

_Anyway, thank you all for reading and leaving your wonderful comments on this story._

And for Shane Brennan and #thebestwritersinHollywood & CBS: thank you for let me play around with the great team that you came up with!


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